


oh boy, what flavour?

by strawberryrosewood



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Baking, Breakups, Fluff, M/M, Misunderstandings, Oneshot, Pre-The end, eddtom is barely implied LMAO, fuck you edd, like food baking they dont get high, pre-25ft under the seat, tord goes on a big rant about cookie mix and hating edd, whats the opposite of a slowburn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:54:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25275019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberryrosewood/pseuds/strawberryrosewood
Summary: Matt gets dumped by some undisclosed girl and Tord decides to do something about it. also everyones kind of an asshole because uhh pre-25ft under the seat but matt has a more legacy personality?? idk man just roll w it
Relationships: Edd/Tom (Eddsworld), Matt/Tord (Eddsworld)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 41





	oh boy, what flavour?

**Author's Note:**

> please go check out @popztart24 on tumblr they made some epic fanart for this https://strawberryrosewood.tumblr.com/post/623027522479816705/popztart24-here-is-my-fanart-for

When Tord woke up that morning, he realized that he had been going through the same, bleak routine for too long.

Get up, knock on Matt’s door, ask if he was okay, get no reply. Leave, eat breakfast with his housemates, bring a plate upstairs for Matt, go about his day, find either an untouched or empty plate by the door– usually the former, rinse and repeat those last two steps and go to bed. That was the basic pattern everyday, for the past week now. The past _week._

I mean, Tord _had,_ in fact, been dumped before. He knew it sucked, but room-bound for a week? Either Matt had ran away and wasn’t telling anyone, or he was really, really, _really_ upset with this.

Matt was a nice person- sweet, sometimes, if he could think past himself for a minute. He could see why this would affect him so drastically, past the jokes Tom made about how this clearly hurt his gargantuan ego. Tord didn’t participate in those jokes, but for once, it wasn’t to spite Tom.

Tord wasn’t very talkative in the group. He acted more than he spoke; he observed, and listened, and heard, and if he needed to, he fought. The drawback from this is that no one really knows who you are, or what you like past very basic things.

The _benefit_ is the fact that you probably know more about anyone than they know about you. You hear the things whispered under their breath, see the way they look away at times. You see when they decide to walk away, when they choose to fight, when they give up.

More importantly, though, you also end up learning what their favorite type of cookies are, and for Tord, that was much more valuable than anything else he knew at the moment.

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

“I’m sorry, you want me to do what?”

Tord sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in what he hoped to communicate was pure, complete, very clear _annoyance_ in its most refined form, curated best by that motherfucker in front of him. He had just finished breakfast with Edd and Tom, and managed to catch the least favorable of the two before he decided to retreat to another room. Tord was currently stuck partaking in what had recently become his most common pastime; dealing with Tom’s bullshit.

“You heard me, Tom,” he replied, making sure the exasperation and disdain was far from subtle, releasing his hand and using it to gesture instead. “What do you not understand about this?”

“Well, why you’re doing it, of course. Pretty sure the last time you had the house more or less to yourself, we ended up with a giant hole in our wall-”

“-Because I threw a couch at it, yes, but we fixed the wall and the fridge is full of bacon this time and Edd won’t be here, okay? So it’s nothing to worry abou-”

“-But you still can’t tell me-”

“-because it isn’t important!-”

“-if it isn’t important why don’t you want to tell me?”

Tord stopped there, then breathed in just to let out a long, dramatic, very long, lengthy, looooooong sigh before glaring at Tom.

“You wanna sigh for another five minutes?” Tom asked blankly, watching as Tord dug into his pockets and finally pulled out a £20 note.

“Here, will this get you to stop being a pain in my ass for a day?”

Tom looked at the note in Tord’s hand- clearly thinking over whether he wanted to take his rival’s money or continue being a jerk solely out of spite rather than actual suspicion.

“We’ll be back by 7,” Tom replied finally, grabbing the currency from Tord’s hand and walking towards the living room instead. “Don’t wait up.”

Tord watched as the other walked away, not exactly proud of himself for being £20 poorer than before. But hey, at least he had gotten Tom to actually cooperate with him for once.

“Thanks,” he replied, quietly.

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

It was about 12 pm when Tom and Edd finally left. Tom’s excuse for why him and Edd should totally leave varied from “shopping trip” to “movie trip” to whatever the hell he could think of, but at least the excuse of “Tord should stay and keep an eye on Matt” remained consistent. It was the first time either of them had mentioned him for days since this started.

Tord didn’t care why they left as long as they _left._ And they did.

Now it was time for phase two.

He remembered Matt asking Edd to pick up his current object of interest weeks ago, before any of this ever happened; he especially remembered it due to Edd insisting that they didn’t need it and Matt re-insisting that they did, which went on for a good hour or so up until Tom finally said, _“Edd, just get the damn cookie mix, at least he isn’t asking for another mirror again.”_

As Tord made his way over to the pantry, he found himself feeling pretty bad for Matt, past his initial pity that had him here in the first place. Just let the guy get his cookie mix, Edd, what the fuck does it matter?? You get to buy kegs of cola and Tom gets to buy shitloads of smirnoff so who cares if Matt wants some cookie mix?? Tord continued searching as he thought about this very important dilemma, until he slowly began to realize something the more and more he searched.

Edd hadn’t gotten the fucking cookie mix.

He hadn’t even gotten the fucking mix in the first place! What the fuck?! Tord had never seen such bullshit before. The guy asked for Betty Crocker Snickerdoodle Cookie Mix © and you couldn’t even do _that?? What the hell, Edd? It’s a BOX, it’s the most simple thing to get! You don’t just SKIP OVER something like that unless it was intentional! For fucks sake, how would YOU feel if someone didn’t get your cola??_ Fucking asshole.

Tord proceeded to grab something far back in the pantry- something roughly the size and shape and color and design of baking mix. 

He looked down at the label. Strawberry cake.

That sounded like something Matt would like, even if they didn’t have snickerdoodle. Fuck you, Edd.

They had everything needed for it, at least, and Tord was pretty sure they had frosting to go with it anyways. At least they had that, amiright?

God, Edd was such an asshole.

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

The floor creaked underneath him as Tord made his way to Matt’s door. He had just pulled the cake out of the oven and, hoping to kill some time while it cooled, decided to notify Matt that he hadn’t forgotten about his existence like everyone else had in the following weeks.

He knocked. No reply.

Sighing, he finally spoke from the other side of the door.

“Matt,” he began, “I know you’re upset, and you have been for a while now. But you need to eat, and you need to come out at some point and talk to us. Just.. take your time, but take care of yourself, too. Please.”

Still no answer. Pursing his lips, he finally added,

“Oh, by the way, Tom and Edd are gone and I made a cake. It’s for you, and it’s cooling right now.” He hesitated. “..It’s strawberry.”

…

…

… _Click._

The door unlocked, but didn’t open, and Tord sure as hell wasn’t opening it if Matt wasn’t. Not yet, anyways. It was certainly a step forwards in the right direction, and that’s all he really wanted.

He smiled a little to himself. “I’ll tell you when it’s ready.”

He walked away, content for getting Matt to at least do that.

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

When Tord came back, the door was still, thankfully, unlocked.

Too bad he didn’t have a free hand right now. Unceremoniously, he kicked the door in lieu of a knock, and called out for the other once more.

“Uhh, heyy, Matt? You still in there? I have the cake with me, so if you could open the door that would be-”

The door swung open just then, revealing a semi-disheveled Matt before him.

“…nice..”

Tord went quiet as soon as he saw him, taking note of his appearance. His clothes were wrinkled, his hair was a mess, and he looked rather tired. The Matt he knew would _never_ let his appearance get that bad.

The ginger glanced down at what was in Tord’s hands, then moved out of the way as to let him inside.

Tord had never been in any of his friend’s rooms, on account of the whole keeping-to-himself thing. Matt’s looked nice enough; a number of mirrors lined the walls and tabletops, and Tord avoided them as he did with every reflective surface. Everything was.. organized, but cluttered. Collected rocks and gemstones and plushies and little mementos sat on every available surface. He liked the look, though. The haphazard controlled chaos around him was better than Tord’s rarely cleaned room, anyways.

He heard the clearing of a throat behind him, and turned on his heel to face Matt again. The two paused for a second, and Tord took in the irony of the situation; he had baked something for Matt, and Matt hadn’t taken care of his appearance. They were both doing something out of the ordinary.

Matt glanced down at the two plates in his hand, and Tord glanced around a bit more as to refrain from standing there looking like an idiot. When he met the other’s eyes, he saw that his brows were furrowed.

“..Tord?” He began.

“Yeah?”

“Did you bring any forks with you?”

“… shit.”

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

“So, what was her name?”

Matt shifted slightly on the carpeted floor, head resting against the mattress of his bed. Despite the messiness of his room, he’d been kinda adamant about there being no crumbs in his bed, and any available chair was piled high with clothes, and Tord had just… sat down on the floor, and Matt had followed suit. He was poking slightly at the slice of cake as he spoke.

“Stacy. No,” he began, gesturing with the plastic fork in his hand, “Chelsea. Gladys? No… maybe Floren-?”

“You’ve been crying over this girl for days, Matt, how can you not remember her name?”

Matt paused, his shoulders bringing themselves up as he shrunk back a little. “I haven’t been crying.”

Tord blinked, chewing on his current bite slowly as he thought over what Matt had said. “..then… why have you been in here for so long?”

“I dunno,” he replied, “because I thought that was what you guys expected?”

Tord swallowed. “Jesus christ, Matt, I know how you are, and I get it- don’t wanna ruin your reputation or whatever, but you don’t have to lie to me, you can-”

“What? No, I’m serious!”

“Bullshit! You haven’t been eating, Matt!”

“You never knock to tell me there’s food!”

“I-” He thought about that for a moment. “Oh.”

“And while we’re at it, you get up at like, six am every morning! You know I have to get my beauty sleep!! You wake me up all the time because you keep knocking and asking if I’m okay, and by the time I’m woken up enough to say something you’ve already left!”

“Then why do you look like that? You never let yourself get this bad!”

“First of all, _ouch._ Second of all, I took a NAP, Tord. You took three stupid hours for that cake.”

“Oh, _sorry_ I cared enough to do something nice because I thought you were actually upset!”

“You know what, your cake probably sucks! You probably used gunpowder or something in it!”

“Oh my _god, Matt,_ I’m not that much of an asshole.”

“No! I bet you only did this to get me to eat something gross! I bet you put something like- like, I dunno, almonds in here!”

“You know I have a nut allergy. Wait, why are almonds bad to you–?”

“That’s what they _all say!_ ,” Matt hissed, pointing the fork in hand at a now-irritated Tord. “Here, I’ll prove it!”

Dramatically, he stabbed the cake and took a bite, glaring at Tord all the while. Tord returned the look with a blank, unimpressed look.

Slowly, Matt’s expression began to soften, and Tord smiled slightly in triumphance. “See? No gunpowder, no almonds, nothing gross. Sorry I tried to care, Matt. Anything you wanna say before I leave you to your stupid fake breakup episode?”

“Why is this good?”

“Alright, grea– what?”

“This is the best cake I’ve ever eaten,” he reiterated, looking up at Tord again. “Where did you learn how to do this?”

Tord blinked, a little surprised at Matt’s shift in tone. “Well, uh..”

He hesitated, taking in Matt’s wide eyed, interested look. “I mean.. I can.. explain?”

Matt moved a bit closer in response, and Tord, getting the message, cleared his throat and began.

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

“.. and its better if you use melted butter instead of oil, because.. I dunno, it makes everything taste better? But double the amount you use, or else it wont turn out right, and an additional egg can help, but I try to use baking soda and vinegar- makes it fluffier, I think, and–”

“Why are you doing this?” Matt asked suddenly.

“I- what?” Tord replied, completely snapping out of whatever he had been talking about. “Doing what? You asked me to talk about this, and I am.”

“Not that,” he responded, sitting back once more and gesturing to the norwegian. “ _This._ All of this. Checking on me everyday and, and baking me a cake, and getting Tom and Edd to leave for the day just so you could do this whole thing. Why?”

Tord thought on it, and ultimately didn’t have an answer.

“I.. I was worried, I guess. I didn’t want you to be upset.”

“I thought you didn’t care about us.”

“Fucking hell, Matt,” he retaliated, “I know I’m a major dick but I’m not that damn heartless. Where’d you get an idea like that?”

“I–” Matt paused again, and Tord could practically see the gears turning in his head. “I.. I don’t know.”

He looked up, meeting the other’s eyes once more. “Tord, I.. I don’t know _anything_ about you.”

Tord went silent at that. It wasn’t news to him- it was a calculated move on his part, for a multitude of reasons. He stayed quiet and he didn’t show much interest in things that weren’t unanimously liked, and he had liked it that way. 

But something about hearing it from Matt just made him feel bad.

Maybe it was the way he said it, or the fact Tord considered him his best friend, or maybe it was the same thing that had pushed him to kick Edd and Tom out and bake something for him. Whatever it was, Tord didn’t like it. He didn’t like that he was so unknown to someone he considered such a good friend.

With that, Tord stood up from Matt’s floor, and held out a hand to the ginger as to help him up. He smiled at him, and the other returned it somewhat, and he could swear he felt butterflies in his stomach, as much as he tried to ignore it.

“Well.. It’s only, what, five-thirty? That’s plently of time to fix that, right?”

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

Edd and Tom came home to an empty house. Neither of them questioned where the two were, or why the door was locked, or why the lights were out, and they never really would. In short, they didn’t think about it.

They didn’t think about Matt and Tord running to the nearest arcade, laughing all the while at the impromptu outing they were on. They didn’t think about them playing ski ball, and Tord losing terribly but not minding in the slightest because it made Matt happier than he had seen him in days. They never considered Matt failing to grab a specific toy from a crane machine, and Tord managing to get it after four or five tries. They never thought about how Matt would light up, and hug the plushie to himself, then hug Tord just as tightly.

And they definitely never thought about Tord hesitating before wrapping his arms around him, burying his face into his chest and taking in _everything_ about that night.

And they definitely never considered Tord and Matt saying goodnight to each other, and going to their respective rooms long after Edd and Tom had, and Tord laying in bed, unable to get Matt out of his head.

It just never came to mind. But maybe it did when they started holding hands a lot more often.


End file.
